These Voices Burn
by GingerFate
Summary: Punk is in an abusive relationship. Can he leave the man he is convinced he still loves if he has help? Warning: explicit slash and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- This is a short story I'm making based on CM Punk and Randy Orton. This one isn't going to be based on their feud or matches so much as just their relationship and what's going on outside of the ring. This one is going to have a more serious note and be pretty dark, probably darker than any of our other stories. If you aren't into that I'm thinking of doing another one would be more light hearted when I'm done with this one, but right now I just feel like doing this one is necessary for some reason. I need to give you a WARNING that this will contain violence, verbal abuse, hurt, possible rape, explicit slash, and possible physical abuse, just so you know what to expect getting in this one. I will try to keep the story short, I plan on 5-6 chapters, maybe a couple more. I plan on this story being very intense so let me know what you think and I hope you like this adventure away from our usual story lines. **

**-BattleBird**

CM Punk moaned and arched his back as his lovers cock pierced him hard enough to hurt. The size wasn't the issue, though the man behind him thrusting furiously into his body was definitely not lacking in that department, Punk was used to the size. It was the massive size that hurt, but the sheer force. Punk was on his hands and knees on the bed, just trying to hold himself up was becoming a hard task as his boyfriend pounded into his already abused ass. Large hands clawed at his hips, leaving marks so bug Punk was sure his trunks wouldn't cover them up this time, and his back had scratches, his thighs had angry bites, his lip was red and throbbing from where the large fist had struck him. Punk let a tear roll down his cheek and choked back a sob and the man behind him continued the brutal assault, not paying any attention to whether Punk was in pleasure or pain, not taking care of Punk the way he used to.

With a final thrust Punk felt come fill his ass, felt the shudder go through his body and his lovers, felt the large cock that had been used to abuse him so many times soften and pull out, come dripping down his thighs when he did so. The large body on top of him rolled over and faced the wall, almost immediately asleep. Punk sighed as he looked at the large back, the shoulders covered in tattoos, and rolled to face the opposite way, not making any contact with the man next to him. He finally let all of the tears fall and he cried into his pillow, trying to be as quiet as possible. When had he become this person? When had he let another person take control of his life? Of him? When had Punk decided that he loved someone so much more than himself that his happiness and satisfaction didn't matter at all? Punk had become a slave to someone else's needs against his will. Closing his eyes Punk remembered.

It hadn't always been this way. Three years ago, when Randy Orton had asked him to go on their first date the larger man had been so nervous he stuttered and blushed. That's what Punk had loved about him, Randy had all the reason in the world to be the most confident man alive but could even look Punk in the eye to ask him to a movie. Of course Punk had said yes, giggling at Randy and lifting the man's face by the chin to look him in the eyes. On their date Randy had been so flustered he knocked over a glass of water on the dinner table. Punk loved that he was big and clumsy. After a few dates they had made love for the first time and it was the most magnificent thing Punk had ever felt. Randy had been so gentle and nervous, using his large hands to seduce a virginal Punk. Sure Punk had slept with people, but he had never bottomed before, never wanted to either, until Randy had come along. That night had been the most passionate of his life, something he will never forget, mostly because he liked remembering how Randy was back then, how he was back then. They were both different people now. All because of one mistake. One night….

_/Flashback/_

"_What do you mean you slept with her?" Punk cried, looking at Randy with the most hurt expression on his face._

"_Phil, baby," Randy tried to calm him down. "I didn't mean to-"_

_Punk laughed. "Oh, so your dick just found its way in her pussy? Let me guess, you guys fell down and it just happened?" The tears never stopped coming down his face as he made his way to their bedroom that they shared in their St. Louis home. Randy had convinced him to move in a few months before, after their one year anniversary. Making his way to the closet Punk grabbed his suit case and began throwing cloths inside haphazardly. _

_Once Randy had followed him into the bedroom the larger man also began o cry._

"_Please, Phil. Please don't do this, just let me have a chance to show you that I love you. I will do anything, please forgive._

_Zipping up his bag Punk face Randy, who now on his knees in front of Punk, begging for him to stay._

"_I can never forgive you, Randy." He said, walking out of the house._

_/End Flashback/_

But Punk had forgiven Randy, they had even gone to couple therapy, working things out. After a couple of months Randy had gotten Punk to move back into their home. Everything had returned back to normal mostly. Randy had started acting a bit differently, though. He had started keeping Punk closer, keeping tabs on his more when the touring separated them for more than a day or two. Punk just thought that Randy was glad to have him back and wanted to keep him close, but one day he realized that wasn't the case.

It had happened after a match. And it had changed Punk and Randy's relationship forever.

/_Flashback/_

_Punk and John Cena walked through the hallways of the arena, smiling and excited after their match together had been successful, one of the best Punk had ever had. He always enjoyed working with his best friend. Walking through the halls people congratulated them._

"_Hey," Cena said as they walked. "You wanna come watch Randy's match in my dressing room? I know how much it sucks to watch them in those damn locker rooms, and my dressing room had a flat screen." John asked._

"_Hell yeah! I could use a comfy couch and a Pepsi after that attitude adjustment." Punk and they laughed. "Just let me grab my bag so I can change."_

_Punk went to the locker room and got his duffle, throwing on a t-shirt and some jeans over his trunks. He knew there was a Pepsi machine in the hall and would just get one of his beloved drinks from there. _

"_All good to go." Punk said when he came out to find John standing by the locker room door. They older man help up a Pepsi._

"_Got you a present." He flashed a dimpled smile. John was always the dependable friend to have what he needed._

"_Awe man, you sure to know the way to a guys heart." Punk laughed and took the drink, walking down the hall to Cena's private dressing room. Once inside he threw his bag into the corner and plopped on the couch, hearing Randy's music hit and getting excited. _

"_Turn it up! Turn it up!" He shouted as John got the TV adjusted the way Punk liked it when he watched his man wrestle._

_Randy came out in full Viper persona, looking as though he was going to attack at any moment. Sitting down next to Punk, John laughed. Randy and Punk were the cutest couple and two of his greatest friends. _

_As the match went on Punk yelled at the TV and John laughed at him. Punk yelled as though Randy could actually hear him._

"_RKO! RKO! RKO!" Getting a little to excited when Randy jumped up with all the grace in the world and landed an RKO, winning the watch. "WHOOO!" Punk lifted his Pepsi when he jumped up, spilling a bunch on himself and John._

"_Awe man, come on. That shit is freezing cold." John laughed as Punk looked down at his soiled shirt. _

"_Well damn." Punk stripped the shirt and went to his bag in the corner, using the shirt to wipe his chest as he walked. He knew to hurry, Randy would be back stage looking for him by now and he wanted to go congratulate him on the match. John stripped off his pepsi soaked shirt as well and went to get one out of his own duffle on the table. _

_Looking through his shirts Punk was in a dilemma. "Hey, John?"_

"_Yeah?" _

_Punk held up two shirts. "Ironman or Batman?"_

_John laughed at the childish question that had been asked so seriously by a grown man. "Batman dude, definitely Batman."_

_Throwing the Ironman shirt back in the bag Punk walked forward back to the couch, not putting his shirt on yet. Suddenly the door to the dressing room came open and Randy came in. Punk smiled and jumped up, hugging Randy, but frowning when Randy didn't hug back._

"_That was a great match man!" John smiled as he threw his shirt on._

_Randy frowned. "Punk get your things. We're leaving."_

"_But, Randy, don't you wanna hang with John for a bit and celebrate our matches. That was the best RAW we've had in a long time."_

"_No." Randy grabbed Punk by the arm and grabbed his duffle from the corner, dragging both out of the room. Already having changed into his jeans and shirt, Randy merely took both out to the rental car and threw Punk inside harshly, slamming the door and walking to the drivers side. _

_Once Randy was inside the car he started it and Punk looked at him, holding his arm that was sure to have bruises from being dragged along so forcefully._

"_What the hell was that, Randal?" Punk asked._

"_Did you fuck him?" Was Randy's only reply, not even looking at Punk._

"_What?"_

_Now Randy looked at him, blue eyes ready to kill. "Did you fuck him!?" Randy yelled, causing Punk to jump._

"_Who!?"_

_Randy reached over and smacked Punk in the face. Looking back at his boyfriend, holding his cheeks and feeling tears come up Punk didn't know what to do. Randy had never acted like this._

"_Did you fuck John!? Nice fucking match you had with him, huh? Sweating and rolling around in the ring. I bet you've been trying to get with him for a while. Thought it would be a nice way to get back at me for fucking Sam huh?"…._

_/End Flashback/_

After that night Randy had demanded that Punk never speak to John on anything other than a professional level. Even after John called and talked to Randy, trying to explain and reassure him nothing had gone on and that the idea they had slept together was insane. Randy would hear none of it. It had been a year since Punk had been able to hang out with John, and it had been 10 months since Randy had made Punk give up the rest of his friends, even the ones he didn't get to see. Kofi, Colt, R-Truth, all of them. Every friend Punk had had was now angry with him, because if Punk refused to stop talking to them, Randy found a way to separate and alienate him from everyone else. Hell, even his good friend and boss Triple H couldn't speak to him anymore. Now Punk stayed to himself at the venues. No one spoke to him and he spoke to no one, he knew the punishment for talking to other people.

Lying in bed now, Punk felt the old bruises on his body begin to fade. He wished he could call someone, tell them what was happening and they could take him away, but Randy had made sure that he could never do that. Punk would never get help. And now that the man lying next to him was the only one who would even speak to him, Punk was afraid to leave. If he left that would mean he really would have no one. Sobbing harder than he realized Punk felt the bed move, then and hand on his throat and a hot body pressed against him back.

"If you don't shut that shit up I will give you something to cry about." Randy gave him throat a harsh squeeze, causing Punks eyes to water, before shoving him away and rolling back over.

Punk stayed quiet for the rest of the night.

**/The Next Day/**

Punk woke up to and empty bed, like most days. Looking around the plain hotel room he saw the clock, 8 in the morning. The shower was running, so Randy hadn't left. Most mornings were like this, trying to tip toe around Randy. Just as Punk laid his head back down his cell phone rang, which was odd considering no one but Randy called or texted him anymore. Without looking at the caller ID he picked up.

"Hello?" His sleeping laced voice croaked out.

"Punk," Hunters voice came out as though he didn't expect Punk to answer.

"Yes?" Punk wanted so bad to greet his old friend the proper way, but knew it would be a bad idea considering that Randy had come out of the bathroom and was leaning against the wall in nothing but a towel, looking at Punk through narrowed eyes as he spoke on the phone.

Punk's eyes never left where Randy stood.

"Listen, the company is renewing some policies and some of them involve the health of our athletes who signed contracts past a certain date. Since your renewed contract was signed past a that certain date I'm afraid you gotta come get a physical tomorrow at the training center in Florida." Hunter spoke in such a cold cut way it made him flinch. This man used to be warm and kind to him, until Randy made him tell Hunter that the only reason he had befriended him in the company was to better his career. Which wasn't true, Hunter had been one of his best friends because he had understood Punk. But now that was gone.

"Ok, that's no problem." Punk said.

He heard Hunter on the other end of the line sigh and act like he was going to say something, but with another sigh he just said, "See you there, kid." And hung up.

Hanging up the phone Punk and turning to put it on the dresser Punk sighed as he saw Randy come towards him.

"What was that?" Randy asked accusingly.

"Hunter. He said do to company policy changes I have to go out to the Florida training center tomorrow and get another physical." Punk hoped this would satisfy him. But it didn't.

"Hmm, how convenient that I didn't get the call for a physical." Randy came forward, making Punk cower where he sat on the bed.

"H-Hunter said that it's because my renewed contract was signed after the cutoff date for the new policy, but yours was signed before." Punks voice shook, Randy was not in a good mood today. Before they were like this Punk would wake up in Randy's arms and kiss him awake, now Punk was lucky to get past breakfast without crying.

"Isn't that convenient, though? How I have to go out to California for publicity, and suddenly you have to fly all the way across the country to meet with Hunter for a "physical?" Randy scoffed. He pounced on Punk without warning, tackling him back on the bed and grabbing his wrists, pinning them painfully above Punks head.

"Randy, please," Punk pleaded, letting a tear come out. "I didn't know until just now. I don't even know if Hunter is going to be there. I will only be gone a couple days, I sweat. When it's all done I will fly straight to California to be with you." Punk wasn't scheduled for a spot on RAW next week, so he had some time off. WWE liked to give them knows off every once in a while just because doing so many shows at a time could burn someone out, and Punk was getting burnt out. But not from the shows, from being with Randy all the time. The only moments he wasn't with Randy was when he was in the ring, pipe bombing or GTSing someone. It was the only place where he was safe to be himself.

"Yeah right. You're such a fucking whore you know that? Hunter is a married man, Punk. You shouldn't be fucking a married man." Randy spat at him.

"No, Randy, it's not like that. I haven't spoken to Hunter outside of the ring in months." Punk argued.

"You know you belong to me, right?" Randy ground his hips down, the only thing separating his erection from Punk thigh was the sheet covering Punk, the towel had fallen off when Randy had pounced on him. "You know that I don't like sharing the things I own."

Randy ripped the sheet off of Punk and looked down at his body, giving a smirk when his eyes came across the bruising just below his chest tattoo. "Apparently I need to remind you what happens when you stray away from me, dog." Randy got up and pulled Punk with him by the hair. Letting out a yell of pain Punk fell to the floor. Without any time to catch himself or know what was happening, foot came down on his ribs hard, causing him to gasp in pain and his eyes to water.

"Randy please!" Punk begged.

The only reply Randy gave was more kicks to Punk stomach. Once he was sick of the he walked to his bag, grabbing something out. Punk couldn't see what it was through the tears blurring his vision, but he knew it couldn't be good. Seeing Randy's hand raise up Punk tensed up, letting out a whimper when the leather belt came down on his back. Randy kept going until Punk body had red whelps all over it, smiling at his work. Punk didn't know what to do. Sure Randy had thrown him around and given him some hits before, but he had never full on beaten Punk, he knew better because it would be noticeable in the ring. Usually his injuries would go away after a few days, or he could cover them up with some concealer, or explain them away to anyone who asked. Fortunately for Punk no one really cares if he showed up with a black eyes or busted lip anymore. They just didn't care.

One Randy was done with his assault, punching Punk a few times for good measure, Randy lifted the smaller man up and threw him on the bed stomach first. Punk didn't move, knowing what was going to happen. Without warning Randy opened him up and slammed into his hole dry and unprepared. Punk screamed into the pillow. Usually Randy at least bothers with spitting into his hand or sometimes using a little lube, but he had never used Punks body while he was still dry. The stinging pain was to much and Punk tried to crawl away, but all that got him was a harsh smack to his already abused back. Deciding that fighting back was a back idea, Punk just let Randy abuse his body, feeling the sweat drip down his body. Eventually Punk could tell that Randy's strokes were getting more smooth from the blood that must be coating Randy's dick. It still felt like his body was being ripped in half, however.

After a few minutes of thrusting into Punk Randy let out a groan as he came in Punks ass once again, staying in place for a few moments before pulling out. Punk cried silently and Randy stood, staying in his place stomach down on the bed, face turned and eyes fixed blankly on the wall.

"Now that's a way to start a morning. Looks like I'm gonna have to wash the fucking whore off of me again though." Randy said as he picked up his towel and walked back towards the bathroom, stopping before he went in and looking in Punks direction. "If you know what's good for you, you will be packed up and on that plane to Florida before I get out." With that he went into the bathroom and slammed the door. That warning meant Punk had about 20 minutes to get the fuck out of there.

Wincing at the searing pain that shot through his ass when he moved, Punk got up and grabbed his bag from the hotel room chair. He began stuffing all of his things inside, only stopping to grab clothes that looked like they would make a passable outfit. Once packed Punk grabbed tissue from the box on the night stand and wiped the come from his thighs and between his ass cheeks, gasping as the tissue ripped at his hole even more when it made contact. Taking away the material Punk saw red. More than he thought had been there before. Looking at the bed Punk saw that the white sheets were stained with blood. This couldn't go on, Punk couldn't live like this anymore.

Getting dressed he grabbed his things and left. Maybe he wouldn't meet with Randy in California after all.

/**The next day/**

Punk shut his hotel room door. He had enjoyed his first afternoon in Florida after he had left Randy yesterday. The plane ride had been short considering he and Randy had only been in Texas. Punks cab was waiting for him, the ride wouldn't be short considering he chose the hotel closest to the training center. The lovely morning Florida sun was shining down and mad the man relax, remembering his only worry in the world was completely across the country right now.

Punks phone vibrated. Speaking of the devil.

**Where are you?-Randy**

Sighing, Punk texted back.

**In a cab on the way to the training center.**

His phone vibrated again less than a minute later.

**You better be here the day after tomorrow. No speaking to Hunter or Cena. I WILL find out.**

Punk didn't dignify that with a reply, just shoved his phone in his pocket as they pulled up the training center. Grabbing his backpack and stepping out of the cab Punk looked around. The parking lot was completely empty, it didn't look like anyone was even there. Oh well, must be because it's early in the morning on a Wednesday. Securing his backpack full of gym clothes on his shoulder, wincing when it scraped one of the red welts on his back, Punk walked into the building. Looking around Punk slowed to a stop, the lights were off, and there were no secretaries or employees at the desk up front.

Making his way past the desk and through the hall, looking through the glass walls and into the gym rooms and weight rooms Punk still saw no one. This was getting weird. He considered calling Hunter to see if they had forgotten about him, which was likely. Hopefully this was just a physical strength checkup and not a full body. WWE did both, bringing in doctors to check their physical health, and trainer to check strength and stamina to make sure they could make it for long periods in the ring. Walking through the gym door Punk noticed a light on in a room in the back corner, the door open. He even heard a few voices.

"Hello?" He called, the voices stopped, but no one came out. "Hello?"

Punk walked to the door with caution, considering not going in at all, but decided that if this was the physical he didn't want to get in trouble for missing it, not from his bosses but from Randy if Punk had to leave a second time for the same physical.

Going into the room Punk stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes and heads turned to him. Looking at Punk were all the people he used to call his friends.

Kofi, Hunter, Stephanie, Truth, the Bella twins (which pained him immensely to alienate himself from since they helped him through the process of first dealing with the fact that he was gay), Daniel Bryan, and most of all John Cena. John stood front and center, closest to Punk. After a moment Punk noticed a few more bodies in the room, Seth Rollins and the Uso's.

"What the hell is going on?" Punk asked, this obviously was no physical training.

After a moment of silence John spoke. "Phil, we want to help you."

**Alright guys, that he end of the first chapter. Let me know what you think. This kind of story is different for me to I need to know what I'm doing right and wrong to that I know how to improve in the future.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N- The second chapter to this Punk/Orton love/hate story. Enjoy. Thanks to those of you who gave me your feedback, I appreciate your opinions immensely. This is for you guys.**

**-BattleBird**

Punk stood for a moment after John spoke, taking on what was happening. What was happening? He hadn't caught on yet.

"Help me with what? I haven't spoken to you people in months." Punk needed to keep up the façade that he was no longer their friend, but all he wanted to do was run into John's arms and cry and tell him everything. That Randy hit him, raped him, the things Randy said to him. But Punk couldn't do that. There was still a part of the Randy that he had met in there that he could salvage.

John sighed. "Phil, you don't have to keep this up. We all know what's going on. We can get you out of it Phil. You just have to trust us."

Punk held back tears. If only they knew that he could leave, not when Randy was so fragile. That's what Randy was, fragile. Without Punk there to hold him together in some sick twisted way, who knew what would happen.Randy and his anger problems and emotional instability could lead anywhere. "I don't need help." Punk muttered and looked at the ground.

Anger welled in John. "What do you mean you don't need help?! Look at your fucking face!" John gestured to the bruised cheek, busted lip and bruised eyebrow. Everyone in the room seemed a bit uncomfortable at the attention John had drawn to Punk battered face.

Hunter stepped forward, touching Johns arm and giving him a look that said "Go cool off." In a huff John went to the back of the room to his girlfriend Nikki, who rubbed her boyfriends arm. Nikki and John were a beacon of hope for Punk. If John could find love again after that terrible divorce that left him scarred, then Punk could work out the issues Randy had.

"Punk," Hunter began. "We are your friends. Let us help you. We can get you out of this relationship. The only time you would even need to see Randy is during work, that's it. I scheduled his California dates and gave you time off. It should be enough time to get you out of there and moved somewhere else, somewhere far away."

Realization hit Punk. That's what this was about. The weird California press Randy was suddenly called to do a few days ago, the long period of time Punk had off, the Florida physical being so far away from Randy. They had been planning this. Why? Why now?

Punk continued looking at the ground. "It's to late." He looked at Hunter when he spoke.

"Punk, we can get you out of there. Away from Randy, far away from Randy." Hunter pleaded.

Away from Randy? No. That would destroy Randy. "No! Randy needs me!" Punk felt the tears leave his eyes. "You don't know what will happen if he doesn't have me there to keep him level."

"Level?" John came back to the front of the room, right in Punk's face. Punk had never seen John look so angry before. "Is this level Punk? Take off your shirt and let us see what level is, huh? I saw you limp into the fucking building, that is not level. That is fucked up and it takes everything I have not to beat the shit out of him every time I see him walk into a damn room!" John was yelling now.

"I just cant. He needs me." Punk argued weakly. "There's-there's still some of him left in there. I can see it sometimes."

Everyone in the rooms faces dropped. They knew how in love Punk and Randy had been in the beginning, knew how much Randy had worshipped Punk. And they all knew Punk was a fighter, he would fight till the end to get the old Randy back. The one they all knew was in there somewhere.

"How about this," Stephanie spoke now. She had something working in her mind, she was always the plan maker for WWE. She decided when people ran out to assist or attack others, she knew what moves to make to have the biggest effect on the show. The same applied to every day life situations. "How about you leave for just a bit. Until he promises to get help. Get your things out of the house, leave a note. We all miss the old Randy, Phil, and we all want him back. He was our friend too, he's just lost his way a bit. Maybe taking away the only thing he has left will bring him back to reality."

As she spoke Punk shook his head. "No, that will only make it worse."

"Come on man," Kofi this time. "You can stay at any one of our places. Maybe get a temporary place in Chicago. I know how much you miss home, you haven't been back in over 6 months."

It was true, Punk missed Chicago like he missed the old Randy. Sighing, Punk weighed his options. Maybe this would be good. Maybe….maybe Randy would come back.

Lifting his head a looking at them all he finally spoke after a long silence. "OK."

They all sighed and smiled in relief. John came and wrapped his arms around his old friend, but he hugged to tight and Punk winced in pain. Everyone noticed. Pulling back John looked at Punks face.

"Show us." John said.

"No." Punk couldn't face them like that. So weak.

"Punk please. It does no good if you punish yourself." Hunter spoke, standing next to Stephanie, who gae Punk a reassuring smile. There was no way Punk was getting out of this. Sighing Punk dropped his backpack on the ground and closed his eyes, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and taking it off in one quick motion. The room gave a collective gasp. Punk ribs were bruised, red lines ran across his back, some of them bruising or bleeding.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." John was nearly shaking in anger. Nikki had to come forward and rub his back, trying to calm him.

"I'm with John." One of the Uso's said. Punk still couldn't tell the two apart most of the time.

"Yep." Kofi.

"Killing sounds like a pretty good fix." Hunter surprised everyone with this.

"So its settled," John said. "We kill him." Everyone nodded. Except for Stephanie, who didn't find this funny at all.

"We are not killing him." She said. "We are going to hurt him, just in another way."

Stephanie gave one of her award winning mischievous smiles and came to Punk. "We are going to take the most precious thing he has away from him. He still cares about Punk, whether he remembers it or not. It's our job to make him remember what Punk is to him. Not for his sake, but for Punks." She reached up and rubbed her hand through Punks hair, something she might do for one of her daughters when she needed to be nurturing. Stephanie was motherly even to those who were older than her.

"And with your permission, Nikki, I would like to use John to do so."

The Bella Twin smiled. "You can use John however you like."

"It's settled then. Punk you will begin moving your things into John's house tomorrow."

That seemed to end the conversation. Everyone in the room nodded, including John. Well, this was going to be interesting.

**/Two Days Later/**

"This isn't going to work." Punk said as the movers brought the last of Punk boxes into Johns house. If that's what you could call this place. It was more like a castle, fucking huge. Stephanie hadn't been messing around, there had been movers waiting in St. Louis when Punk and John had arrived to pack his things up. Punk had to follow Stephanie's instructions. Change his phone number so Randy couldn't get to him, pack up everything he owned in the house whether he intended to come back or not, and finally write Randy a letter telling him exactly how he felt and leave it on the bed with an item of significance that Randy had given him as a gift. All of these would be signed that Punk was really done.

"It will work." John stood next to Punk in the living room, looking at the boxes. "If we can get the old Randy back he will come crawling back begging for you to come back. He will remember how much he loved and adored you."

Punk shook his head. "You remember how angry he was that I had just been shirtless in the same room as you. When he finds out I'm living with you he will come here and bust down the door and drag me out by the hair." The amount of truth in Punks voice told John that Randy had drug Punk around by the hair before.

"This is different. I promise." John faced Punk and made the slightly taller man face him. "Punk, you are one of my closest and oldest friends, and I refuse to let someone hurt you anymore. And if I have to pretend to be gay and get the shit kicked out of me by my old friend to protect you I will."

Punk smiled. Imagining John as gay was funny to him because the man was so in love with the Bella twin it was unbelievable.

"Ok. But when he fucks your house up it isn't my fault."

They both laughed, but Punk got serious again. Looking John in the eyes Punk spoke. "John…what if he doesn't come back? What if he doesn't remember that he ever loved me?" The idea of living without Randy scared Punk. But the idea of living with this Randy scared him even more.

"He will remember." John drew Punk into his arms and held the battered man in front of him. "I loves you to much not to remember."

**/California/**

Randy threw his phone against the hotel wall, watching it shatter. He had called and texted Punk repeatedly over the past couple of days and nothing. That whore was probably fucking someone and forgot to cover his tracks. The idea of someone else touching what was his caused Randy to lash out and punch a hole in the wall. The hotel could charge the damage to his account. This was bullshit. Punk was going to be in for it.

Randy smiled evily. Oh, Punk's ass was going to be him. Picking up the hotel room phone he called the airport, getting a flight home for the next day. Punk would be there. He had nowhere else to go after the physical. He had no one to go to, Randy had made sure of it.

_He is mine. No one can have him. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine._ Randy sat on the bed and smiled as the thought repeated itself in his mind. Over and over again. But the voice in his head wasn't exactly his…

**St. Louis The Next Night**

Randy made it to their house, smiling as the cab driver pulled in. Grabbing his duffle and throwing money at the driver Randy smiled, thinking of how he was going to punish Punk for ignoring him. Punk had no right to ignore his owner. Unlocking the door and walking in the house Randy dropped his bag by the door.

"Your ass is mine Punk!" He yelled and knew he would be heard anywhere in the house. Walking into the living room Randy was met with darkness and silence. He didn't notice some of the missing picture and items from the shelves. Items that had belonged to Punk. After doing a sweep of the entire down stairs Randy walked to the steps.

"Hiding wont do you any good, Phillip. It will only make what's coming to you worse." Randy stalked up the stairs, still not noticing that some of the photos that lined the stairs were gone. Photos that were from when they had been happy, the ones that Punk coveted the most.

Randy stalked into the bedroom, the light was on and the door was cracked. His foot met wood as he kicked it open, greeted with emptiness. What he did notice was the drawers that were slightly open. Pulling them open Randy growled when they were empty. Walking to the large closet they had shared Randy went in, screaming when he found the closet void of Punks things. The comic book shelf was empty, the shelf full of old ratty shoes was empty. Jeans and T-shirts had been removed. Going into the bedroom Randy saw that the shelf he had built for Punk's CD's and favorite comic books was completely empty. Then he saw it, the envelope on the bed.

Going to the bed Randy snatched it up, tearing open the envelope that read "Dear Randy" on the front. Taking a deep breath Randy began to read.

_Randy,_

_The day you asked me to a movie and then spilled water on me during our first date was the best and worst day of my life. The best at the time because I was in absolute bliss at being with you. Our first year and a half together was more than I could ever imagine. All I can think is what could I have possibly done to deserve someone who loved me so much? And you did Randy, you loved me. But you don't now. I still love you though, and that's why I have to leave. Perhaps I love you a little to much to still be with you. Any normal person would have left when you cheated, but I love you. Any normal person would have left when you started hitting me; but I love you. A normal person would have left when you started alienating them from their friends and family; but I love you. A normal person would have left when you started raping me; but it made you happy and I love you. _

_Perhaps one day you will find someone who you deem good enough, because god know I am not good enough for you. I have clearly done something wrong in this relationship to deserve what is being done to me. And for whatever I did, whatever I said, I am sorry. I am sorry for whatever I did to make you hate me so much. I'm fucking sorry Randy. I'm done, though. Making you happy is costing me my life. And I would stay with you Randy, god I wish I could stay. But I cant stay. _

_I can't stay because I love you._

_-Phillip_

Randy didn't realize he was crying until a dot of water splattered on the paper. Reaching up Randy wiped away a tear and looked at the liquid on his finger. When was the last time he cried? Thinking back realization hit. The last time he had cried had been when he cheated on Punk. The last time he cried was when Punk had left him, had walked out of this very bedroom with his bag packed. Picking up the envelope to tuck the letter back in Randy realized there was something in it, dumping the contents on the bed he saw Punk's set of keys to the house. And the other thing he saw made him crumple to the ground, finally thinking about what he had done. There on the bed was a dried rose petal in a small baggy to protect it. When Randy had come clean about cheating he had taken Punk out on a "first date" again. Bringing him a dozen roses. Punk loved roses. Randy didn't realize he had kept one of the petals. To a normal person it was a dried old brown/red petal. But to Randy, it was a symbol of Punks love and forgiveness. Love and forgiveness he had taken for granted. Love and forgiveness he had abused. Love and forgiveness he had lost…..


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N- Sorry I haven't gotten this up in a couple days, been busy. This one is for you guys and I hope you like it! Happy Holiday's to all of you and I hope you all have a nice time with your families and friends! This is the best I could do for a gift. You can imagine the big bow in your head if you want to.**

**-Love, BattleBird**

Punk had spent four blissful, work free days at John Cena's house. John has away for a couple days doing some work, but let Punk have total run of his entire home, which was massive and Punk spent the entire first day just adventuring it. The second day was spent on the couch watching TV and eating junk food. And the third day was spent in John's home gym. Now he was slipping on his swim trunks to test out the lake sized pool that took up most of the back yard. Making his way down the stairs from the bedroom he walked to the large French doors that led to the backyard and stopped to enjoy the shining sun. Closing his eyes Punk realized that this was the happiest he had been since…well since the first time Randy had laid a hand on him. Shaking his head to forget those kinds of thought Punk ran to the pool and dived in head first. The water rushed around him and cooled his sun kissed skin. Punk swam for a couple of hours, until the sun started going down and his arms were tired, before he heard a call from the house.

"Back here!" Punk called, wiping water from his face and pulling himself from the pool and grabbing a towel.

John emerged from the French doors, back from his work stuff. "I got hot pizzas, beer," John laughed when he saw Punk frown, "Pespsi," Punks smile returned. "And a stack of horror movies and marvel movies that need to be watched."

"I'm in!" Punk wrapped the towel around his waist and bound through the house, running up the stairs to get on some warm clothes. His bruises and marks had settled enough that they no longer pained him. Luckily for Punk the belt wounds weren't too bad and the welts went down, leaving only a few red marks at this point. He was healing, slowly, but he was definitely healing. After rummaging through a suit case Punk threw on some gray sweat pants and a Black Sabbath t-shirt that he found, turning to make his way down stairs but running into John in the doorway. Looking disapprovingly at the boxes that were in the large bedroom that Punk insisted was too big and sighing, shaking his head.

"You don't plan on staying here long, do you?" John had been trying to convince Punk to unpack and stay for a couple of months, but Punk refused.

Giving a sheepish smile Punk shook his head. "If I don't go back to Randy I would at least like to go home to Chicago."

Giving an understanding nod John seemed satisfied with that answer and turned to go downstairs to the living room, Punk following behind. Once down there John grabbed a stack of movies.

"Ok, kid, we've got Avengers, all the Batman movies, Thor, American Mary, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Fight Club, Texas Chainsaw, and I Spit On Your Grave." John held up the movies.

Sitting criss-cross on the couch Punk seriously thought about it. "American Mary! I love that bitch!" Punk said excitedly. (A/N If you have not seen the film American Mary I insist that you do so immediately. You can thank me later.) Popping the movie in the DVD player and grabbing the pizza boxes and drinks, John went to the couch and set the food next to them. He handed Punk a box, that upon investigation on Punks part turned out to be a pizza with nothing but vegetables on top, and a Pepsi. Grabbing a couple of bread sticks Punk gan to chow down on the glorious junk food that he rarely got to eat because of work, it had always been tough for him to keep a lean look, not as easy as it was for John or Randy….

Punk looked down at his pizza, getting lost in thought. Maybe he shouldn't eat this, he couldn't get lazy and fat during his two weeks off. And if Randy saw him gain weight…..Randy had started to attack Punk physical appearance, knowing how sensitive he was about it. One time Randy even admitted that he found Punk unattractive because of his slight love handles.

"What's wrong?" John's voice suddenly snapped Punk away from his thoughts.

"Nothing." Punk sighed.

"Punk, I'm done playing these games. You need to start telling me things, stop bottling it up inside. No matter what it is, if it's a memory, a thought, something he did." John probed.

"Randy would never let me eat this. He always complained I wasn't lean enough, that he didn't think I was attractive…" A tear rolled down Punks cheek.

It pained John to see his oldest friend like this. If he could have helped Punk sooner he would, but no one noticed until Randy had gotten bolder in harming Punk, leaving noticeable marks. Then John had started asking people he knew were friends with Punk, that's when it all felt together. None of them had put the pieces together that Punk had begun to isolate himself from them all around the same time, feeding them practically the same story of why he couldn't be friends with them anymore. They went to Hunter, who had also been isolated from Punk and that's when they started working on the plan to get Punk out. Seeing such a strong man fall at the hands of someone else who they had all considered their friend had taken a toll on all of them. Punk had been a beacon of strength for all of them, if Punk could weaken then that meant all of them could be taken down by anything. John was done watching his friend hurt. Though Randy had once been his friend, the Randy that walked around now was not the one he had met all those years ago. The old Randy was loving ad would never hurt Punk, the new Randy used Punk as a toy and it pissed John off more than anything. Randy didn't deserve this man.

"Phil, look at me." Punk looked up into John's eyes. "You could walk outside and have men and women climbing over each other just so you would look at them. Randy was only looking to hurt you so he could feel better about himself. You are beautiful and healthier than anyone I know. And if Randy says you are unattractive then I know for a fact this new man isn't him." John took Punk's hand in his own. "You know what Randy used to tell me? Before all this started happening?"

Punk sniffled a tear back. "What?"

"He used to brag that he had caught an angel from the heavens and he would never let you go. He would say how lucky he was and how he didn't want anything to take you away. The night he cheated on you," Punk winced at the memory. "Punk, the night he cheated on you he called me, crying. He was at a bridge. He was going to jump because he knew you would never forgive him. I had to talk him out of it, I told him to go see you and come clean. Punk, just the thought of losing you made Randy wasn't to die."

By the end of John speaking Punk was crying. He had never known Randy was going to kill himself, Randy had never told him. "Then what changed?" Punk cried. "Why doesn't he love me anymore? Why does he hurt me?!"

John brought Punk into his arms and cooed him. "I don't know Punk. Maybe he felt insecure after he cheated, thought that you would find someone better because he felt he fucked up. He wanted to make sure you were to messed up to leave him." John stroked Punks short brown hair.

"But I forgave him. I told him I forgave him when we went to counseling." Punk cried into Johns shirt.

"I know. He told me how happy he was that day. But…sometime people get thoughts, Punk, thoughts and ideas that gnaw at their minds and build up until they explode."

Pulling away Punk wiped away his tears. "I know. I get them. But…I still love him so much, John." Punk looked at his friend. "I don't think I can just leave him. Without me he will break, John." John couldn't think of anything to say, and Punk didn't want to continue the conversation, so they sat back and watched the movies. John finally got Punk to eat the pizza shamelessly. It was a small step to getting Randy out of Punk's mind, but it was a good step in the right direction.

/**Florida Airport/**

Randy got off of the plane and grabbed a cab. After a couple days of searching Randy knew exactly where Punk was at. Once he realized Randy had booked a flight and cancelled any press, making Hunter very upset with him. Randy didn't understand why Hunter was so angry that he was going to miss a few press appearances. But that didn't matter, all Randy cared about was getting Punk back into his house. Giving the address to the driver Randy looked at the night sky of Florida. He couldn't see Punk liking it here, the man liked the hustle of the city to much. Randy felt a little bad for taking Punk away from his home, but Punk had seemed to like St. Louis just fine.

After a little over half an hour the cab pulled into an elaborate neighborhood, going in deeper and deeper until final they pulled up to a house fit for a king. Randy paid the driver and grabbed his small duffle. Taking a deep breath he walked up to the door. He could not fuck this up. Finally he rang the door bell.

/**Inside John's House/**

Punk and John's heads snapped up when they heard the doorbell ring. Their third movie was halfway through and they had fallen asleep, Punk's head on Johns chest and Johns comforting arm around his friend.

"Who the fuck?" John rubbed his face and checked his phone for the time. It was just getting to midnight. Punk moaned next to him and leaned up, stretching the soreness out of his muscles. Two people do not belong sleeping on this damn couch. The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming damnitt!" John yelled, getting up. "I'm gonna fucking kill whoever this is."

"Be nice!" Punk yelled as John stomped to the door. It wasn't a few seconds after Punk heard the door open that he heard it slam again and John come into the living room.

"Go to your room." John said urgently. There was banging at the door, and some yelling. Oh no.

"He found me didn't he?" Punk looked wide eyed at his friend.

John just nodded.

"What-What does he want?" Punk looked nervous. The stairs to the room were in front of the door, and there were glass panels on either side of the door. Randy would be sure to see Punk running up the stairs.

"He wants you. When I told him to leave because you were her with me he went off. He misunderstood what I meant as usual." The banging at the door persisted.

"What are you going to do?" Punk didn't want this to get bad, and if Randy was angry it could get bad.

"I'm going to tell him to leave. Go upstairs." Johns tone was final and Punk didn't press the issue because Randy kept beating on the door, yelling unintelligible things. Punk took a deep breath and ran for the stairs, the quicker he got up there the quicker it would be over. Once he hit the area between the stairs and the door Punk didn't look at the door, he might weaken and go to Randy if he saw the man's face. John followed behind. Once up the stairs Punk turned the corner towards his room, but didn't go in, he wanted to hear what Randy had to say, something told him to stay and listen. The door opened.

"You need to leave, Randal." John said.

"Phil! Phil I know you're up there!" Randy ignored John. "Please, Philly, come home." Randy pleaded.

Punk bit his fist to keep from making a sound of pain. Randy sounds to broken.

"Randy now is not the time. Please leave." John kept his composure.

"No!" There is was, the Randy Punk knew was there, the Randy that caused his bruises and pain. "You cannot have what is mine! Just because you managed to get him to fuck you doesn't mean he doesn't still belong to me!"

"He isn't a piece of property, Randal!" Now John was angry, a side of John Punk had seen on the rarest of occasions. "He is staying and you are leaving!"

"Fuck you! Phil come the fuck out right now!" Randy yelled, but Punk held firm, if he went back to Randy it would be the Randy he met, not this monster.

"Randy go!" John yelled.

"Fuck off! Phil you're a fucking whore you know that! Fucking anything that moves! Cheating on you is my best decision!"

"Don't fucking talk to him like that!" John yelled and with that Punk heard a thump, then some wrestling around and muffled yelling and sounds. Gathering the courage he looked around the corner and down the stairs to see Randy on top of John, fist raised. Randy had a bloody nose and busted lip, but John's nose had to be broken. Randy wouldn't stop hitting him until John was dead, Punk just knew it. Just as Randy raised his fist again to hit John Punk ran down the stairs, tears in his eyes.

"Stop it! Stop!"

Randy and John's heads snapped to face him and a smiled formed on Randy's mouth. "Good, now get your things, we are leaving."

Punk shook his head. "No, get off of him Randy."

Cocking his head to the side Randy looked at Punk. What? Punk had never denied him. "What did you say? Did you just tell me 'no?'" The taller man stood, forgetting about John on the floor and stalking towards Punk.

"I'm not going with you Randy. I-," Punk looked at the ground. "I'm not yours anymore, Randy."

Randy laughed. "Then who do you belong to? Hmmm…This piece of shit?" He gestured to John, who was starting to stand.

"I belong to me!" Punk snapped, stepping towards Randy. "I am not a dog! I fucking hate you! I hate everything you've done to me, I hate what you've turned me into! I want the Randy I used to love back, the one who loved me! This Randy is a piece of shit! Get out! Get the fuck out and leave me alone! I don't want to be with you anymore." Punk's voice lowered, but he still cried. "I want to find someone who will love me and hold me and tell me it's going to be ok. I want someone who won't hit me or call me hurtful things. Look at me Randy!"

Randy didn't, he looked at the ground in anger.

"Look at me!" Punk yelled, this time getting the man to look. "Look at my face! Look what you did to me." Punk ripped his shirt over his head. "Look at my stomach, my back. Look what you did to me. How can I stay with someone who does these things?"

For a moment Randy's eyes ventured over Punk body and tears gathered. "Punk I'm so-," Randy reached for him, but Punk stepped back.

"Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me again Randy." Punk's voice was firm, confident. Randy looked around, looked at Punk's beaten figure, John's broken nose, looked at his own hands. Randy began pounding his head with his fists and screamed, tears falling down his face. "I'm so sorry Punk!" He yelled before running from the house, barely managing to grab his duffle from the front porch where he had dropped it. Randy ran, for how long he didn't know, but he just ran. He had fucked it up, his last chance and he had fucked it up. He couldn't live without Punk, Randy wouldn't live without Punk. But what he had been doing for the past year and a half hadn't been living with Punk had it? It had been tormenting Punk. The realization hit Randy and he stopped running. The images of the past year and a half ran through his mind. Every bruise he had given Punk, every pained cry Punk had let out as Randy used his body without his permission, Randy remembered every tear that fell down Punk's face, every drop of blood he had cause to fall from his love, all the time he had threatened or yelled at Punk for no reason, and the terrified look Punk had every time Randy walked into a room where they were alone. Randy remembered everything and cried. Sobbed. How could someone do this to the person they loved? How could he do this to Punk?

Randy looked at where he was. He had run to a very dark and deserted area. Looking around Randy thought of it, the thing he had that could save them both, the thing that would save Punk from him, because Randy needed to save Punk. He couldn't risk hurting the man any longer.

Walking over to a park he had ran to, dark a deserted, Randy dropped his duffle and pulled out his phone. He didn't know Punk new number, so he called John's home phone, knowing they wouldn't answer for him if they saw his name on the caller ID and Punk would here the message he was going to leave on the phone speaker. Going through the numbers Randy hit JOHN HOME and settled himself from crying.

The phone rang and rang until finally there was that loud beep.

John's voice came up. "You have reached the home of John Cena. Please leave your name and number and I will get back to you as soon as I can" BEEP.

"Phil, sweety. I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you in so many ways. I can only hope that when I get to hell they do their worst on me in return, I will except no less." Randy cried. "I remember the first time I saw you, you were so beautiful I wanted you so badly but thought I would never have you, then I got you. Against all odds I was the one you chose. And I was so happy. But then I fucked up and I punished _you _more my fuck up. I cannot tell you how sorry I am for that. I know you would never cheat on me, I know you never have, even when I started hurting you. And its that information that's made me realize I truly don't deserve you. And John. I know you were never with Punk, I don't know why I thought you would do that. I guess in my mind he's just so….so pure that no one can resist him. I couldn't resist him. Phil, I love you baby, and please know that I always have, even when I hurt you. I was hoping I could make you love me again. But I know now that what I've done, what I've become, is unforgivable. I am unforgivable. I love you baby. Forever. John, please help him find someone who really deserves him, let him love again. Phil, please love again. And don't ever forget, I love you. I love, I love, I love you. My angel. Bye." Randy dropped the phone on the ground.

He had under s tree and opened the zipper to his duffle bag. Digging around he found two orange bottles he had been carrying around for months. He had gone to see a doctor a while ago, about things he kept seeing in his mind, the violence he felt inside of his. They had given him these pills, but he didn't think he needed them, se he never took them. All together there were 130 pills, it would be enough. Breathing in deep Randy looked at the sky, the stars glinted. They were as pure and bright as his Phil….his angel….Tilting his head back Randy began swallowing the pills dry by the fistful until they were all gone. Soon he felt light headed and dizzy. Closing his eyes Randy smiled, thinking about the first time Phil had let Randy kiss him…


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N- Sorry for the delay, guys, been having a touch of writers block for the past few days. There are only a couple of chapters left to this one and I may be starting a new short story after this one, I haven't decided yet. Enjoy this chapter and hopefully I will have a new one posted in the next couple of days.**

**-BattleBird**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ Randy listened to that beeping sound for what seemed like forever before he realized he was not in a dream. Randy smiled to himself, he had been having a good dream about taking Punk to the beach and the memory warmed his heart. But why was he awake? And why could he feel something warm on him? He didn't realize his eyes were closed until he tried opening them, which was almost impossible, he felt like he had been hit by a truck. Cracking open an eye the first thing Randy saw was a blindingly bright light. After a few moments of blinking and adjustment Randy saw a white wall, a TV in the corner, and to the left a machine that it turned out was emitting that awful beeping sound. Following the machines chords Randy saw it was hooked up to his finger below a couple of IV's that stuck out of the top of his hand. Was he in the hospital?

Closing his eyes Randy tried to remember what happened. Ok, he had been in a hotel with Punk when his boyfriend got a call from Hunter and left. _Left._ That's what had happened, Punk had left him! Randy sat up in panic as memories of the past few days came back. Showing up at Johns house and hitting him, reading Punk's letter, the truth that Punk had thrown in his face, and the tree he had sat under as he took all those little white pills to get rid of Punk's pain. Why wasn't he dead?! He was supposed to be dead so Punk could be happy! Punk couldn't be happy as long as he knew Randy wasn't gone.

Something besides Randy moved when he sat up, drawing Randy's attention to the warm thing covering his hand, which was another hand. A hand with a red tattoo and lettering covering the top of it. Randy could never forget that hand, a hand he had held in his own many times. Punk laid there with his hand on Randy's and his head one the bed, sound asleep. He had been crying, his face had tear stains and his eyes were puffy. Other than that Punk looked like an angel, so perfect it hurt Randy to even look at him. Punk stirred again, this time his eyes flickering open.

As soon as Punk saw that Randy was awake he shot up, looking at Randy's face just before he broke out in tears, wrapping his arms around Randy's neck and crying into his neck.

"Don't do that! Don't ever fucking do that again!" Punk cried. Randy didn't understand. Punk hated him, the man had said so. Why was he crying?

"W-what-" Randy didn't finish his sentence. Punk leaned up and pressed their mouths together in a sloppy but much needed kiss. Once of those tattooed hands came to trap Randy's head so he couldn't escape the kiss. Soon Randy's hands came up to cup Punks face, drawing him in closer and tangling their tongues. God, it had been so long and they both needed this. Randy the most. He needed to feel Punk embrace, needed to feel Punk hands on him and his mouth tangled in a dance with his own. It wasn't long before they needed to pull back from one another, the intensity of their kiss making them both out of breath. They looked at each other's faces, Punk's stained with tears and Randy's laced with surprise.

Once his breath was back Randy spoke. "Why Punk? You hate me, you said so yourself. Your life is going to be so much better without me." Randy couldn't help but take the opportunity to reach out and stroke Punks face, his stubble rough on Randy's fingers.

"I can't hate you Randy, I only hate what you've done to me. I will always love you." The last part came out in a whisper.

"I'm not good for you, Phil. I'm just not. Look what I've done to you. If I can't die I will leave the company and move away. You cant be around me." Randy closed his eyes and a tear came out. "You need to leave, Phil. Now." Randy's chest tightened up. The last thing he wanted was for Punk to leave.

Punk started laughing. "That's not happening, Randal. And you're not leaving either." Sighing, Punk leaned back in his chair. "Here's how this is going to work, those doctors told us what those pills were for originally, and you are going to go and get a new prescription for them and take them. Not all at fucking once, but twice daily, like the bottle said. You obviously asked for help once before based on the fact that you had the pills and you are going to ask for help again." Punk leaned forward again and rested his arms on the bed. "But this time, you are going to do what the doctors told you to control your IED. I will be with you again, but only if you learn to get help."

Randy was shocked. Punk was willing to be with him again and all he had to do was start taking that medication?

Randy shook his head. "No, they said the first time that the pills might not even help and I'm not risking you being around me if they don't."

"Oh they work. Notice how I got with you. Randy, I just told you what to do and you didn't even get mad." Punk smiled.

"What?"

"The doctors dosed you with the proper amount to ensure you not freaking out when you woke up. And look at you, almost as mellow as when we first met. Randy, I know it will take a while," Punk took his hand in his and Randy closed his eyes at the warmth. "But I'm willing to try. I just need you to hold up your end of the bargain, and promise that you won't stop taking the pills."

Randy couldn't argue with Punk any longer. He reached out and hugged Punk into his body, holding on like it was the last thing he would do. "Yes." He rushed out. "I promise, I fucking promise I will take the medication every day and never touch you again, I swear."

**/Three Months Later/**

Randy had kept true to his word. After the hospital he had immediately gone to get help from a therapist, seeking any help he could get to control his anger. Now he was on two pills a day to control the chemical release that took part in his IED. It was a bunch of medical and psychological talk that Randy didn't understand, all he knew was that it helped his anger and would help him get Punk back, so he didn't care. Randy had even taken extra precautions, insisting Punk stay moved out for a while just to make sure, visiting regularly and finding that Punk's relationship with John no longer bothered him. It was funny how two little white pills could change everything and turn Randy back into the person he used to be. It was explained to him that his anger issues were a common development in men his age, not that he was old, just testy.

At the moment Randy was standing in his living room, looking out of the French doors that lead to his back yard. No, _their_ back yard. Randy smiled. He and Punk had decided that it had been long enough, it was finally time for them to move back into the house. Randy had completely redecorated, not wanting any dark reminders of how he once was. Now there were large open windows, an open set of French doors that lead from the dining room to the back patio, and the dining room flowed into the living room and kitchen. The house was now nice and open, just like their new relationship.

"Alright," Punk's voice broke through Randy's thoughts. "That's the last one." He said, sitting down the last brown box on top of another one. Looking around Punk smiled.

"Have I told you how much I like the new look?" Walking up to Randy Punk wrapped his arms loosely around the taller mans neck and pecked him on the lips.

Randy smiled. "Only about a thousand times since you came in and saw it."

"Well, I love the new look. It's so…open…for, you know, things." Punk leaned up and nibbled Randy's ear. The Viper shuddered, but pulled away, quickly coming up with an excuse.

"Have you seen the kitchen?" Randy asked, walking through to the dining room, pretending not to hear the frustrated sound that came from Punk as the shorter man followed. Catching his arm and spinning him around.

"Randy, I've seen the kitchen 10 times. I want to see the bedroom now." Again Punk stepped in close and put his hands on Randy's hips, trying to pull the man closer to him. Randy stood firm.

"But you haven't seen the back yard yet." Randy said nervously.

Punk rolled his eyes. "I've seen the back yard twice. And it's beautiful, Randy. It really is, but there are other activities I would like to partake in at the moment." There was absolutely no hidden meaning, Punk was being as obvious as he could be. Right?

All day long Punk had been sneaking kisses, grabs, touches, and "accidentally" rubbing against Randy, and now he wasn't even resorting to hidden messages. Every time Punk tried to start something with the man, Randy would just make up some part of the newly renovated house to show Punk. This was getting ridiculous. Punk hadn't really had Randy in a romantic way in nearly a year and a half, and he needed the man now. Ever since the old Randy had returned Punk had been yearning for that touch, kiss, anything. But for some reason Randy kept resisting.

Punk spoke up. "Randal Orton tell me what's going on right now."

"Punk, nothing is going on, I just want you to be familiar with the new layout of the house." Randy knew it was a weak excuse, but it was the best he could do.

"Randy, I not falling for that shit." Punk crossed his arms over his chest. "I. Want. To. Fuck. You. There, I spelled it out for you. Now take me upstairs and get the job done, Randal."

Randy looked at the ground. "Phil, I can't."

Punk looked confused. "Why not? You've fucked me more times than either of us can count, why was this different. Randy," Punk reached and grabbed the man's larger hand in his, meeting the ice blue eyes meet his own olive green. "I haven't had you the way we used to be in over a year. I want you to make this official. I want you now." Randy knew the look that was in Punk's eyes. A look that the man had given him many times long ago, a look he never thought he would see again. A look of passion.

"I just…whatifIhurtyouagain?" The question came out so fast Punk had to take a second to separate the words in his mind.

Once he did it all fell together. Randy was afraid of what he had done to Punk, afraid it would all happen again. "Randy, if this is why you won't touch me I can assure you I'm not afraid of you hurting me."

"I know you aren't afraid, Phil, but I'm still afraid." Randy gave him a hard stare. "I'm still afraid of what I'm capable of doing to you." He looked down at his feet in shame.

"Randy, look at me." Punk caught his chin and they locked eyes again. "You won't hurt me. You won't do anything you don't want to. And I know that if I told you I wasn't okay with something you would stop. You aren't that person anymore, Randal." Punk little speech had seemed to relax Randy a little. Now was the time for Punk to pounce on his goal.

"Now, Randy, do you wanna do what I asked?" Punk sounded to seductive next to his ear, hot breath ghosting, lips brushing the skin of his earlobe.

Randy closed his eyes. "I don't know." His reply was weak, just like his knees. Punk was close to tearing down his walls.

"Come on, Randy. We need to christen the new dining room." Punk took his hand and pulled him to the large wooden dining room table Randy hadn't even noticed they had stopped by. More open windows were at the wall next to the dark wooden table. No one knew, but Randy had his and Punk's names carved in the bottom of the table by a wood maker. For some reason he felt like it made the new space special to have their names carved into the thick wood.

"Phil, this isn't a good idea." Randy argued, but the last of it was caught in a half moan as he watched Punk pull his shirt over his head, revealing a body he loved. Punk had always been self-cautious about his body, not being as ripped as most of the men in the locker room, but Randy had always loved Punks slim waist and cut hips. He loved the indented at Punk's hips. His tongue couldn't help but find their way there when he could get his hands on Punk. Before Randy had attacked Punk insecurities, but now he couldn't imagine why. Randy now realized he truly had been a completely different personality those months ago, someone he never knew and would never run into again.

Punk leaned back on the table, letting his ass rest on the wood, his pants slung so low on his hips Randy knew he had nothing on underneath, and ran his hands down his sides. Randy could only watch and let himself get hard at the sight. The tattoos that made Punk's look were teasing Randy to just touch and lick them all over, but he couldn't. He couldn't touch Punk until he was given permission. He had taken Punk without the man's permission before and would never do so again. From now on he would only take the man if he was told to do so.

"Randy, come here." Punk wined, reaching for the man.

That did it, Randy couldn't just stand there anymore. He came forward and captured Punks mouth with his own in a kiss that made their heads spin. Randy's tongue found the inside of that hot mouth while his hands snaked around to the back of Punk's jeans, reaching inside and grasping the naked flesh underneath, squeezing. Punk let out a moan and let his own hands find Randy's cloths, tearing the simple button up shirt from his body and throwing it across the room, rubbing his hands down that perfectly sculpted body before roaming further down and moving down to Randy's belt. Soon the leather strap of the belt flew across the room and Punk was free to pop the button to Randy's jeans and slide the zipper down, which is exactly what Punk did. But he noticed that Randy's hands hadn't moved from the back of his pants, as much as Punk liked the feeling of those large hands grasping his ass, he needed them to be touching him somewhere else at the moment.

Punk Pulled away from the kiss and Randy began an assault on Punks neck that should have been illegal. His tongue stroked and his teeth nipped at the tattoo behind Punk's right ear, but his hands never left that ass.

Punk panted, trying to find word, but was getting dizzy from the lack of air the kiss had left him with and the amount of work Randy was doing on his neck. After a few moments Punk caught his breath and found his words.

"Randy?"

"Hmmmmm?" Was the only reply he got, Randy didn't move his mouth away from the flesh of Punk's collar bone, where he was sucking and nipping in all the right places.

"I..need you..to touch me." There, he had said it.

"I am touching you." Randy's deep voice came.

Punk let a noise of frustration out. "You know what I mean!" Punk's hands grasped Randy's head and made the man face him. Randy looked utterly pleased with himself, but something mischievous also hid in that look.

"Randy, what are you getting at?" Punk asked as the hands on his ass began needing, enjoying the way the muscles flexed under his touch and the obvious growing that was happening in the front of Punk's loose fitting jeans.

"Nothing, dear. Just want to please you." Randy went to dive for that spot on Punk's neck again, but Punk pulled him back. This was what Randy was doing, he wanted to get Punk off any other way than fucking him. Randy didn't want to fuck him, but instead get Punk off so that he wouldn't have to risk hurting Punk. Oh, this was not going to happen.

"If you think you are getting away from today without fucking me," Punk reached his hand down to cup Randy through his tight black boxer briefs, giving a firm squeeze. "You are sorely mistaken."

Randy closed his eyes and took a moment to breath. Punk's hand on his made him almost come then and there, but he had to maintain control. "Phil, I will give you what you want, but I can't give you that, not yet. I still need to know that I can control myself."

"Then go away, I can take care of it myself." Punk withdrew his hand from Randy's pants and nudged him away. Then then he did something Randy never saw coming, he removed his pants to leave himself completely nude, bent over the dining room table, giving a view that was sinful, and took his fingers into his mouth. Randy knew where this was going and he couldn't help but smirk. When they first got together Punk had found out that Randy liked it when Punk put on a show. And a show was what the larger man was about to get. Punk slid his now saliva covered fingers down the front of his body and then to his hip. He stopped for a moment before diving in, spreading his legs wide for Randy to see and dipping a finger inside of himself. At first he went slow, letting out low moans that made Randy painfully hard, and then another finger was added. A third followed soon after and Punk hissed at the slight stretch before beginning to move his fingers, crooking them a bit and making sounds that would put porn starts to shame.

"Are you going to stand there or help take care of me?" That was it. Randy snapped, dropping his pants to his knees and pulling his underwear down enough to expose his cock. Punk glanced back in time to see the action and removed his fingers, waiting for Randy to enter him, but after a few seconds nothing happened. Just as Punk was about to speak up and ask what the hell was taking so long when he felt hand grasp his hips, but instead of that gloriously talented dick entering him, Punk gasped at the feeling of a warm tongue circling his hole.

"Jesus Christ, Randal!" Punk braced his palms on the table and pushed himself back on Randy's face, trying to get that tongue as deep as he could. Randy included a finger and belt it to hit Punk right where he needed, causing the man to arch his back and cry out.

"Randy. Fuck. Me. Now." Punk demanded.

Randy pulled away from Punk and stood, taking his cock in one hand and spitting in the other. Randy knew it wasn't to romantic but he had no idea where his lube was in this house full of boxes and was not about to go on a hunt to find it. Covering his throbbing dick with the saliva he lined up with Punk's entrance and hesitated, which apparently was too long a wait for Punk seeing as how the man pushed back, causing the head of Randy's dick to push past the ring of muscle. Randy had to stop himself from going any further, Punk was so tight that if Randy went any further to fast he was sure to hurt the man. Punk hadn't been fucked properly in a very long time and it would definitely hurt.

"Randy all of it." Punk demanded.

"You need time-," Randy began to argue.

"I need you to fuck me, Orton!" Punk pushed his body back more, causing half or Randy's length to penetrate even further.

Randy couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Punk by the shoulders and began to thrust in and out, beginning slowly, then starting a fast pace he knew Punk liked.

"Oh god, Randy!" Punk pushed back against Randy with each thrust, hitting his prostate each time. Randy knew just how to angle it to where he could cause maximum pleasure. Suddenly Randy got an idea. He stopped all together, pulling out of Punk completely.

"God damnitt, Randy!" Punk yelled.

Randy pulled Punk back into a standing position and turned them around to Randy had had ass resting on the table in a half sitting/standing position.

"Ride me." Randy commanded. Punk didn't need to be told twice, grasping Randy's bobbing cock in his hand and lining up, sitting himself down and planting Randy's length completely inside of himself, reaching a depth than before. Both men groaned at the sensation as Punk began to bounce up and down, causing the sound of wet flesh slapping together to fill the room along with moans.

When he felt Punk's walls start to clench around him he knew Punk was close and reached in front of them, taking Punk's leaking member into his hand and gripping it tightly before stroking in time to Punk's thrusts.

"I'm gonna fucking come." Punk panted out. After a few more pointed thrusts of Randy's hips, aiming for Punk's prostate each time, Punk began to spill all over his own stomach and Randy's hand. The feeling of Punk coming cause Randy to spill deep inside of Punk, filling him as much as possible. As the road out the orgasms the men slowed and Punk leaned back against Randy.

The shorter man started laughing.

"What?" Randy was confused.

"That's all I've been wanting all day, Randy. If you had just given it to me the first time I had asked we could have spent so much more time breaking in all the rooms of the house." Punk smiled and turned his head, angling it to kiss the blue eyed man, who smiled into the kiss.

"Well, Mr. Brooks, I believe that can be arranged." Randy pulled out of Punk, enjoying the image of he come spilling down Punk's thigh as he stood to walk shamelessly naked across the dining room and into the living room.

"Let's get started then, Mr. Orton." Punk smirked over his shoulder.

Randy couldn't help but be truly amazed at this man who had let him back into his heart so fully. How could he ever be more happy than he was now?

**A/N- alright, again I'm sorry for the long wait. Today was my birthday to I tried to find a bit of time to work on it. There is one more chapter coming after this so don't count me out just yet. Let me know what you think about this one. **

**-BattleBird**


	5. Chapter 5

The sun shined through a crack in the curtain of the hotel room, waking Punk up from a dead sleep. Squinting his eyes open Punk hissed a bit as he adjusted to the light shining directly in his face. Moving his hand from the solid chest underneath him to block the sun Punk looked at the clock, gasping at the time. It was 8:30 in the morning; they slept in over an hour and were going be late for their flight! Hunter was going to kill them.

Scrambling up, Punk shook the behemoth of a man that he had been laying on. Instead of waking up Randy only rolled over, pulling Punk with him, ending up with Punk under Randy struggling to get out of the large arm that was holding him tight. Punk pinched, poked, and wriggled but nothing worked.

"Randy get up! It's eight fucking thirty in the morning we are going to be late!" Punk continued wriggling but Randy only smiled, his eyes still closed. "Get up Randal Orton or I swear to god I will not have sex with you for a day!" That's when Randy busted out laughing. "What's so funny you lazy bastard?" Punk poked Randy in the head.

"The fact that you can only go a day without sex." Randy laughed harder.

Punk managed to get free and sprang out of bed, throwing clothes at Randy, who just turned to his back and smiled at Punk. He watched as his boyfriend throw on some clothes and started shoving things into their bags.

"Babe, do you have our plane tickets in your carry on?" Punk asked, checking for the tenth time.

Rolling his eyes Randy got up from the bed and stretched in all his glory, not caring about underwear as he slipped on the jeans Punk had thrown at him. While Punk ran erratically around the room Randy slowly got his things together, a knowing smile on his face the whole time.

"Randy get a move on, we have a plane to catch!" Punk yelled as he ran through the room, doing a double check to make sure they had gotten everything. Once Randy had on clothes and had brushed his teeth and freshened up he walked over to where Punk was bending over their suit cases, ass in the air, and wrapped his arms around the man.

"You know I love you, right?" Randy asked as Punk stood, Randy's arms never moving from around his waist.

"Yes, I know you love me, Randy. And I love you. But not for long if you make us late." Punk laughed, turning in Randy's arms and giving the taller man a chaste kiss before bending down to pick up his bags, Randy doing the same. All of the sudden Randy felt this tingling in his stomach and got nervous. He hadn't been nervous the entire time, but now he was. He only hoped this all went according to plan. Sighing, he followed behind Punk to get a cab to the airport, grabbing the first one that came up.

**/The Airport/**

Randy sighed as Punk rushed through the airport, dragging Randy behind him, to make it to their flight. Finally Randy stopped, grabbing Punk's hand and making him stop in the middle of the airport.

"What the hell are you doing? If we stop now we won't get our bags checked and on the plane in time." Punk looked at his boyfriend in exasperation, sick of the man being so nonchalant about missing the plane.

"We aren't going to miss the plane." Randy said ominously before walking to a waiting area and sitting down, pulling a magazine out of his carry on and starting to flip through it, crossing his legs and ignoring Punk as the man stood in front of him with his hands on his hips.

"Randal, our plane leaves in half an hour. Get up."

"No, our plane leaves in an hour and a half. Not half an hour." Randy said, turning the page.

Punk threw his hands in the air and leaned down to rummage through Randy's carry on, finding the tickets and reading them. "The plane leaves at-10:30! These are not the right tickets. They aren't even tickets to California! They are tickets to…Italy?" Punk looked at Randy, who refused to look up at Punk. "Randal, what is this?" Punk asked, holding up the tickets.

"Those are plane tickets, honey." Randy said, holding back a smirk.

"Yes," Punk was progressively getting more pissed. "Why are they tickets to Italy and not California?"

"Because that's where we are going, babe." Randy still didn't look up from the magazine. Punk finally grabbed the magazine and grabbed Randy's shin, making the man look up at him.

"Why are we going to Italy?" Punk asked, eyes marrow.

"Because I requested a week and a half off from work together to go to Italy." Randy smiled big.

"Randal Keith Orton you can't make plans without me! Now I don't have anything appropriate to wear, I brought nothing but work clothes, Randal!" Punk babbled and Randy laughed.

"Phillip, you brought cargo shorts and t shirts, do you really where anything else outside the ring?" Randy asked.

Punk thought for a moment. "That doesn't matter. What matters is the fact that I am not prepared for a week and a half long vacation."

"Yes you are. All I need for a vacation is you, and all you need is me. That's it." When Randy said this Punk's face softened and he smiled a bit, looking at Randy. His anger seemed to melt and he sat down next to Randy and leaned on the man.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't mean to be mad when you are trying to do something for us. I just wish I had had time to grab something special for out little vacation. Something you and I both would have liked maybe?" Punk smiled in a way that had Randy getting hard just sitting there. He knew what Punk was thinking.

"I already have that all worked out. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." Randy threw his arm over Punk's shoulders and pulled him close.

"So, Randal, what should we do for another hour in this airport? Since our flight doesn't leave for a bit." Punk asked in the most seductive way possible, but apparently Randy just wasn't getting the hint.

"We could go and have lunch at one of the cafes here or something. Maybe get some coffee." Randy was clueless.

Sighing Punk leaned in close to Randy's ear and bit the lobe, catching Randy off guard, before whispering, "Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?" Sometimes Punk could get so naughty.

Randy looked wide eyed and shocked while Punk only wriggled his eyebrows and smiled. "Punk, this is an airport. We could be kicked out forever and strip searched by TSA."

Punk laughed, running a finger over Randy's chest. Randy could feel himself getting hard in his jeans already at the contact. There was no way he would be able to sit through waiting for the flight as well as the flight to Italy without getting off now. "Phillip, this is bad." Punk smiled big, knowing he had Randy roped into the idea, and grabbed his hand to lead him to the bathroom that was just down the hallway in some corner of the airport no one was traveling through, it would be the perfect privacy. Randy had just enough time before he was dragged away by Punk to grab their carry ons, their bags already getting checked out since Randy had dropped them off when they got there. As Punk led the way Randy watched his ass as he walked in those damn lose black shorts. They hugged his ass perfectly, his wallet chain swung with his hips as he walked. Punk knew how Randy felt about that wallet chain, the way it always drew Randy's attention to the parts of Punk he liked to touch the most.

As they made it to the bathroom, a simple two stall that had no one else in it, Punk checked the small space before pushing Randy into the end stall next to the wall, making Randy sit on the toilet and shutting the door. Turning around, Punk slipped his hoodie off, hanging it on the coat hook that the door had, then he took a step towards Randy, putting his hands on Randy's shoulders and smiling down at him. Randy ran his hands over Punk's hips, letting them travel to the man's stomach and moving them under the Vipers breast cancer awareness shirt of Randy's that he had stolen. Randy rubbed his hands over the soft skin of Punk's stomach, moving up to his chest and stopping at Punk's nipples, rubbing his fingers over the nubs before giving each one a pinch. Punk moaned and tightened his hold on Randy's shoulders.

"You better start getting it done soon before I rape you, Randal." Punk moved to straddle Randy, grinding their crotches together as he did so. Randy moaned and let his hands drop to Punk's hips again before tearing his shirt over his head. Looking at the expanse of Punk's colorful chest before diving into the skin. His tongue lapped at Punk's nipples while his fingers worked the other, causing Punk to moan while he cupped Randy's head to his body. The larger man's hands slipped back down to Punk's hips, lifting Punk off of his lap just enough to undo his pants and pull them down a bit along with Punk's underwear, stopping when they were just at the bottom of Punk's luscious ass. Randy let his hand cup Punk's ass, squeezing the cheek and pulling him close. Removing his mouth from Punk's nipple Randy pulled him down into a searing kiss that had them both moaning. Randy was so hard he could barely stand it. He needed to get Punk prepped soon before he either exploded or they missed their flight. Grabbing Punk by the hips, Randy turned him, while he was still sitting on the toilet, and bent the man over so that he rested the palms of his hands on the bathroom stall door. The stall was small enough that with Punk halfway bent over, palms flat on the door, his ass was right in front of Randy's face. Pulling the man in, Randy spread his lover open and looked at the expectant entrance before going in. His tongue shot out to lap at Punk's most intimate part, while Randy worked Punk's hole he reached around and grabbed the leaking head of Punk's cock, getting a good amount of pre-cum on his fingers before bringing them around.

Randy pulled back just enough to let his fingers in, rubbing Punk's juices over his own ass and letting his tongue continue to explore his lovers body, a body he knew better than his own. The new taste of Punk's pre-cum assaulted Randy's system and made him even harder, Randy couldn't take the moans and groans coming from Punks mouth any longer, couldn't stand the way Punk's body thrust backwards into his mouth, riding his face. Randy pulled back, pushing two fingers into Punk's body, wanting to prep him fully before continuing, Randy refused to cause Punk the tiniest amount of pain.

"Randy…" Punk whined, "I'm ready. I swear I am." Punk knew the drill by now. Ever since they had officially gotten back together six months ago and Randy had sorted out his anger the man had refused to cause Punk pain, even if it was an accident Randy would apologize profusely, even wanting to stop sex with Punk at one time for not prepping the man enough before fucking him. At first Punk thought it was sweet, but sometimes dirty sex was necessary. And now was one of those times. Punk would not wait for Randy.

Pulling away and standing to face Randy, Punk pulled the man up from the toilet he sat on before dropping his pants around his ankles, working them over his converse and throwing them in the corner of the stall. Punk began his work on Randy's pants but the taller man protested.

"You're not ready, Phil. Let me finish prepping you." Randy tried to turn Punk back around, but Punk stood his ground.

"Randal, here's how this is going to work," Punk undid the zipper of Randy's pants while he spoke, silently thanking the universe that Randy had bypassed underwear that day, "You are going to wrap my long ass legs around that toned waist of yours and fuck me against the wall of this bathroom as hard as you can, sir."

Randy sighed. "You know I can't do that. Not anymore." Randy looked at the ground, ashamed of the memories.

"Randy," Punk lifted his chin so they could look each other in the eyes, "How are we supposed to move on? I have moved on, you're the only one who seems to be having trouble with this. I mean, your boyfriend is completely naked in a bathroom stall waiting for you to fuck him stupid and you are hesitating."

"I just-I just don't want to hurt you."

"You wouldn't be hurting me," Punk smiled seductively and reached around to pull Randy closer by his ass, "You would be helping me."

Randy sighed and closed his eyes. Punk smiled, once again Randy had fallen to his charms. Opening his eyes again Randy sighed. "Fine, but if I hurt you promise me you will tell me."

"I promise." Punk said before jumping up suddenly and wrapping his legs around Randy's waist, Randy barely had time to react and catch Punk. Their lips met in a fierce kiss that was all tongues and teeth. When Randy pressed Punk against the wall their dicks slid together, causing them both to moan and grind against each other.

"Randy, now. We will miss the flight if we don't do this now."

Without any more protest Randy lifted Punk so that he could line his leaking cock up with Punk's half prepped hole. Sliding Punk down Randy moaned when the head of his cock breached the entrance, tensing at the intrusion.

"All the fucking way now!" Punk didn't want slow, he had had enough slow for a lifetime, he wanted fast and hard. Randy delivered, thrusting up as he dropped Punk down, going all the way in, making sure to hit Punk's prostate.

Punk bit his lip and help his breath, trying not to make a sounds as he felt a bit of a sting when Randy entered him, but his boyfriend could read him like a book. Randy suddenly stilled, not moving to exit Punk or continue to fuck him.

"I hurt you." Randy stated, looking at Punk's face in worry.

"Keep going, Randy, please. Because if you don't _I'm _going to hurt_ you._ Now get a damn move on." Punk tightened his inner muscles around Randy's cock as emphasis, making Randy moan.

"Fine." Randy pulled out almost completely, grabbing Punk by the hips, and slammed back in, making Punk yell out. Randy continued the assault, kissing Punk in the process. Randy pressed Punk hard against the wall, lifting one of Punk's legs higher, dropping the other one just a bit lower, so that he could get deeper. Each time he plunged inside of Punk's body the man let out a shallow moan from the stimulation of his prostate. Punk's body glistened with sweat while Randy could feel his shirt beginning to stick to his body. Looking at the chord of Punk's neck Randy couldn't resist, leaning in and attaching his teeth, sinking them in. He didn't have to worry about marks since they wouldn't be exposed in the ring for a while. Randy could leave as many marks as he wanted to right now. Randy bit a little harder, letting his tongue sooth the mark just before biting down again. As much as he didn't want to hurt Punk, he missed these dirty quickies in public places.

"Holy shit!" Punk held on tight as Randy fucked him so hard their sides ended up banging against the stall door, making it sound like the door was going to break off its hinges. But it didn't matter if they broke the entire damn bathroom. Punk road Randy the best he could from his position, trying to meet each and every thrust but not being able to keep up with Randy's pace. Punk could feel the burning begin in the pit of his stomach.

"Randy I'm so close…" Punk moaned, only able to hang on tightly before Randy bit his neck again, making his entire body ignite. The burning sensation in his neck went straight to his neglected cock, which was trapped between their bodies. "Touch me, baby." Punk urged, arching his body to give Randy access.

Randy slid his hand between them and took Punk dick, using the pre-cum as lube, and began to pump him. The dripping head causing the sticky liquid to run down Randy's hand when he squeezed. Punk arched and clutched at Randy.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Fuck me, Randy. Harder." Punk bit his lip.

Randy looked at Punk's face, contorted in pleasure, mouth open, eyes rolling in the back of his head, and smirked. "Who knew CM Punk had such a slutty mouth?"

"Only you know." Punk kissed him hard just before he moaned into the kiss, taking Randy's bottom lip in between his teeth and biting down as he came hard, trying not to scream in the middle of an airport.

At the feeling of Punk coming on his hand, his ass clenching around Randy's hard cock, and the throbbing in his lip Randy couldn't hold back anymore. He gave a few last hard thrusts before coming deep inside of Punk's ass, loving the feeling of overflowing his lover. Randy road out his orgasm, kissing Punk the whole time, blood mingling in their mouths while their tongues played together.

When it was time to break the kiss they pulled back and icy blue met olive green. Randy looked down at Punk with all the love he had in his soul, knowing that when they got to Italy everything could change with what he had to tell Punk. Either Punk would accept him, or Punk would push him away. It could go either way.

"I love you." Punk said, touching his nose to Randy's for a brief second.

"I love you more." Randy said, smiling at Punk's show of affection. Sometimes the man could act so endearing and carefree. Punk chuckled and gave Randy a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Lemme down, I gotta clean-up and put my clothes back on. I think we have just enough time to get some food before we have to check in for the flight." Punk dropped his legs to the ground but wavered when Randy let him go. Seeing Punk's shaky legs Randy wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and held him up, kissing his temple.

"You alright?" Randy asked.

Punk let out a laugh. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He smiled up at Randy. "I've never been better." He gave Randy another kiss. "I'm fine now. You can let me go."

Randy pulled away, resisting the urge to pull Punk closer to him. Randy watched as Punk grabbed some toilet paper, cleaning himself up and quickly hiding the tissue behind him. Randy thought he saw….no.

"Phil, what is that?" Randy went for the tissue but Punk side stepped as much as he could in the stall and tried to drop it in the toilet.

"Nothing."

Randy caught his hand and pulled the tissue from Punk's fingers, seeing a look in Punk's eyes he didn't recognize. Looking at the tissue Randy saw his own come that had escape Punk's ass along with exactly what he thought he had saw; blood. Randy clenched his jaw in anger, not towards Punk but towards himself. Randy dropped the tissue in the toilet and looked at the ground, tucking himself back into his pants. He needed to stay calm. He couldn't get upset while he was this close to Punk.

"Randy…." Punk tried to catch his arm but Randy pulled away.

"Not now, Phil." Randy couldn't look at Punk. Not right now. Letting his back hit the wall of the bathroom stall Randy slid down until he was sitting on the ground, his elbows leaning on his knees and his head in his hands, trying to level his breathing.

Punk sighed as he pulled on his shorts before kneeling down to Randy's level and putting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Randy, you didn't hurt me. Did I ever tell you to stop? Or that you were hurting me? Or did I tell you to keep going harder? To fuck me into the wall as hard as you could? Randy you didn't hurt me, a little blood is nothing. It's happened before. Remember the second time we were ever together and it happened, you were so worried and I laughed because it didn't even hurt?"

"But that was before I-I….what I did to you." Randy still didn't look at Punk.

Punk sighed. "Randy, this isn't about me not being able to forgive you, is it? This is about you not being able to forgive yourself." Punk forced Randy to look at him, pulling the man's head from his hands. "I don't care about the past. This is us right now, this right here. You and me together."

Randy's eyes watered. "I'm sorry." Punk wrapped his arms around Randy and rubbed his back.

"Are we over this?"

"I just need a bit more time, Phil. I'm sorry. But I do. I'm just afraid I'm gonna go back there, to the place I was when I did those things to you."

"You won't because you beat it, Randy. The only way you can go back to that place is by letting it get to you and control you. If you don't think about it, you can beat it. Don't feed it, Randy." Sometimes Punk could be a smart little shit.

Randy smiled. "I will try."

Randy stood, wrapping Punk in his arms and kissing him. Punk pulled back. "Well, now we don't have time to eat. We are going to have to eat shitty plane food." Punk laughed.

"Not so fast. We won't be getting the shitty low class food. We will be getting the good first class food." Randy said as he got Punk's hoodie off of the stall door, opening it for Punk to put his arms through. Once they were all dressed, and Randy rubbed as much of Punk's come from his shirt as he could before just giving up and zipping a hoodie up over it, they tried to look like they hadn't just had sex in the bathroom of an airport as they walked out of the bathroom.

**/After the flight at For Seasons Hotel Firenze Florence, Italy/**

It was night fall when they arrived in Florence and both men were a bit tired despite having slept on the plane. Randy opened the door to the cab for Punk and smiled at the look on his man's face.

"Randy, this is way too much. This place is…" Punk couldn't even find a word for the way this hotel looked. It was extravagant, more fancy than Punk had ever stayed in and was probably costing Randy a fortune.

"Only the best for you." Randy said, giving Punk a kiss on the temple as he grabbed their bags. "Shall we?"

They walked inside, getting some odd looks from passersby, mostly Punk. Randy had an air about him that made it seem like he belonged in places like this while Punk always looked like a kid from the streets of Chicago. Punk waited until Randy came with their room key, looking at the extravagant décor in awe still. The entire place was like a giant old style Italian palace, with beautiful painting all over the wall and Italian style furniture and decorations all over the place. It was huge. Randy walked to Punk and put his arm around the shorter man's waist, handing him his room key. Punk looked at the key and his eyes went wide. It didn't even have a room number; it just said "Lover's Suite" on it.

"You got us a suite? That's insane, Randy! This place must cost a fortune." Punk rolled his eyes when Randy only laughed at him. Punk was always so worried about how much money someone was spending on him, he didn't like it when Randy over spent on gifts, that was when he wasn't complaining about receiving a gift in the first place. But Randy liked to dote on Punk.

"So, the best for you, baby." Randy led Punk to the elevator that lead to their room and pressed the top button where the suites were located. Randy could practically hear Punk's thoughts about the place, that it was too big and grand, but he also knew Punk liked these sort of places, he just never went to them because he didn't feel like he fit in.

Walking to their door and unlocking it Randy led Punk inside, standing behind the man and covering his eyes with his hands.

"What the hell, Randy? I can't see." Punk tried to get free as they stood in the door way but Randy kept his eyes firmly covered.

"Keep your eyes closed and I will lead you inside. Trust me." Randy kissed the top of Punk's head and the man stopped struggling to get free, instead letting Randy's body guide him inside.

Punk walked slowly, not wanting to run into anything, while Randy used his chest against Punk's back to guide the man where he wanted. Once they stood in the main room of the room Randy smiled, the hotel had done everything he had asked. The food was set up, Punk's favorites, the non-alcoholic champagne, the roses everywhere, and the candles that filled the room with the best scents. The balcony door was open to reveal the view over the city, and everything was set up on the ground around a blanket sitting in the middle of the floor, also covered in rose petals as well as fruit. Yeah, whoever had done this was definitely getting a huge tip from Randy. This was beyond what he had asked and it was perfect. He only hoped the only thing that mattered had made it. He shipped it to the hotel a while ago, not wanting to risk Punk accidentally finding it since Randy was terrible at hiding gifts.

"Okay, keep your eyes closed for just a second until I say you can open them." Randy whispered in Punk's ear.

"Randy this is too much! You have outdone yourself, there couldn't possibly be more!" Punk threw his hands in the air.

"Please, just for a moment." Randy begged.

Punk sighed. "Fine, until you tell me to open them."

Randy smiled and gave Punk a quick kiss on the lips before going to the blanket, taking his shoes off so he wouldn't mess up that the hotel people had done for him, and locating the little velvet box he had sent a while ago. Opening it he smiled, finding the intricate ring he had had made 4 months ago. It was white gold that had swirling designs through it along with swirling onyx. Randy had it made because it reminded him of his relationship with Punk; Punk was the bright and lovely white gold that caught every ones eye he was so beautiful, while Randy was swirling darkness that the brightness had excepted as a part of it. The ring had been crafted by the best; Randy had made sure of it. On the inside it read: _For My Light._

Getting in front of Punk Randy smiled, the man still had his eyes closed, his features so soft and beautiful Randy felt his chest swell. He wanted Punk to accept him in this way so bad that he would die if Punk refused him. Lowering himself to one knee Randy opened the box, setting it in the palm of his hand and taking a deep breath.

"Phil," Randy started, Punk's eyes still closed, "I love you, and you are the best thing to ever happen to me. You make me a better person, your soul made me a better person. To have you accept me once was a miracle, but twice was something I could never imagine. And I know it is selfish to keep you to myself, but if you could just open your eyes and accept me one last time into your life forever I would be honored."

Punk opened his eyes at the end and looked down, he looked from Randy to the ring and back to Randy, his eyes grew red. Before Randy knew what happened Punk was on the ground with him, his body on top of Randy's while he kissed the shocked man.

"You romantic son of a bitch." Punk laughed as he continued kissing Randy.

Pulling back Randy smiled. "Is that a yes?"

Grabbing the ring from Randy Punk slid it on his finger and admired it for a moment before giving Randy another kiss. "Of course you big lug!"

Randy laughed. "Another thing. I think maybe we should try not to have sex until the wedding. You know, the whole 'It's a lot better if you wait' thing." This caught Punk's attention.

The Voice of the Voiceless stood and looked down at Randy, a small smirk on his face. "Oh, so you think that after flying me to Italy for a surprise vacation," Punk dropped his hoodie from his shoulder to the ground, "getting us a week and a half time off together," His shirt went to the floor, his hand slowly slid down his stomach to his belt. All Randy could do was lay on the floor and watch with expectant eyes. "And leading me up to a big romantic room," the button and zipper were undone. "Then proposing to me with the most gorgeous ring in the world, that you are not getting laid? Whether you want to get laid or not?" Punk slid his shoes and socks off before letting his shorts fall around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs with a tent forming.

Randy swallowed. "But…but a lot of people h-hold off."

Punk chuckled. "Well, Randal," he got on his hands and knees and began crawling up Randy's body on the ground in a predatory way. "We aren't doing that because I will rape you."

"I-it wouldn't be rape, Phil." Randy said just before Punk captured his mouth in a kiss that had Randy's head spinning. Punk straddled his waist and ground there crotches together, causing them both to moan while Punk slid his hands under the larger man's shirt and rubbed his stomach and chest, feeling the soft skin covering the rock hard muscles.

Punk broke the kiss and smiled at the still swooning Randy. "I'm going to that bedroom over there and I expect you to follow." Punk stood and walked to the door that opened to reveal the master bedroom, stripping his underwear as he did and letting them fall to the floor with the rest of his clothes. Punk knew what his naked ass walking did to Randy so he put and extra swing in his hips as he walked. Randy jumped from the ground and began stripping his clothes as he stumbled his way to the bedroom; his cock was already as hard as it could be. He needed Punk. Finally making it to the bedroom Randy stopped at the doorway when he saw Punk, his breath left his body at the sight of the man lying on the bed, eyes closed, and hand working his leaking cock. The hand that wasn't striking his cock was teasing his hole, dipping one in and out. When Punk added a second finger he moaned and arched his back a bit. Opening his eyes Punk smiled, his lip ring glinting in the light.

"You gonna stand there and watch me, or come take care of me?" Punk giggled when Randy took a running leap into the bed and landed on top of him. The taller of the two kissed his neck, working the skin until there was a purple mark, making Punk moan out and grasp Randy's head. As the man moved down Punk's body he licked and sucked every area he knew would cause Punk maximum pleasure, which proved true when Punk began moaning and writhing in pleasure underneath him. Randy brought his fingers to Punk's mouth and smirked when Punk took them in on instinct, covering them in saliva and sucking in a way that made Randy's cock twitch and leak more pre-cum onto Punk's thigh. Pulling his fingers from Punk's mouth he drew them down the tattooed chest, across the belly tattoo he liked to trace with his tongue, and down to Punk's cock, giving it a stoke before dropping his hand down to Punk entrance, rubbing his finger around the hole before pushing one inside, crooking it up each time he pulled it out and plunged it back in, watching as Punk became more and more undone. Adding a second finger made Punk moan and begin trying to rock his body into the fingers.

"Fuck me!" Punk moaned, moving his body into the fingers.

"Not yet, baby. Tonight is just for you." Randy let his mouth go lower, kissing over the tattoos, his fingers never leaving Punk's warm body or wavering in the slow, torturous pace Randy had set. Once Randy made it to Punk's cock he took it in one hand and wasted no time in taking the leaking head into his mouth, licking up all the juices that had come from Punk's body. Punk's body arched off the bed and he groaned.

"Motherfucker!" Punk's hips moved upward involuntarily, pushing his cock further into Randy's mouth. Randy loosened his throat and let Punk push into his mouth, moving his head downward and letting he head slide down his throat. Randy had gotten much better at deep throating Punk and now took his lover down with ease, enjoying the feeling of Punk's throbbing flesh sliding into his mouth and down his throat. Randy worked his mouth and fingers in time, knowing which spots to hit and have Punk's come shooting down his throat the quickest. Adding one more finger Randy pushed them as deep as they would go, finding Punk's prostate and pushing, rubbing back and forth over the spot as he sucked Punk so hard his cheeks hollowed. Punk could only hand onto the sheets and writhe on the bed as Randy did his work. Punk spit obscene things as Randy worked his cock and ass, sliding his tongue along the underside and circling the head before diving back down. It was only a few short minutes before Punk was clutching at the back of Randy's head and his breath was hitching.

"I'm gonna come!" Punk thrust his hips into Randy's mouth, knowing there was no point in trying to pull Randy away, the man had a thing for swallowing everything Punk had to give. "Fuck!" Punk gave one last thrust and came hard own Randy's throat, loving the feeling of Randy only sucking harder to get every last drop of come from Punk's body. When Punk was settled down Randy pulled his head away, crawling up Punk's body on one hand, the other still moving slowly in and out of Punk. "How am I supposed to be any use to you if you make me come so early?" Punk laughed.

Randy nuzzled Punk neck and inhaled his scent, now fragrant with the scent of Punk's sweat. "I know what you can take. I'll have you alive again in a second."

"I don't know, I think that the best blow job you've ever given me." Punk tried to catch his breath.

"Do you want me to stop? Do you not want me to fuck you? I thought that if I didn't you were going to rape me? Have I changed your plans for the night?" Randy teased, licking and biting at Punk's neck as he did so.

"Oh no, you are not getting out of fucking me tonight." Punk said, grinding against Randy's hand, loving how the fingers were still just rubbing against his prostate, stimulating and causing him to get hard again already.

"Who on earth would try to get out of fucking you?" Randy smiled as he kissed Punk and positioned himself over Punk, bending the man's knees and his sides. Randy took his fingers from Punk's body and smiled at the whimper that came from the man. Spitting into his hand Randy coated Punk's well stretched hole before covering his dick with a good layer of saliva.

"Hurry, Randy. I'm prepped enough just fuck me already." Punk moaned, arching off the bed and getting himself closer to Randy.

"Patience, darling. I'm going to take care of my _fiancé _properly." Randy smiled at the term he could now use for Punk.

"It's hard to be patient when I need to come so bad."

Randy lined himself up with Punk and began pushing inside of his lovers waiting body. They both moaned in unison as Randy's head breached the tight ring of muscle before he pushed completely inside, his balls hitting Punk's ass. It only took a second for Randy to begin pounding into Punk. The tightness surrounding Randy's cock squeezed and constricted, causing Randy fasten his pace. They could no longer control their bodies and their mouths and hands found each other. Punk ran his nails around Randy's back while Randy grabbed Punk's hips in a vice grip, pulling Punk down to meet his thrusts. Randy pressed their bodies together and pounded into Punk harder, causing the large bed to begin shaking; hitting the wall each time Randy plunged back into Punk's body.

It wasn't long before Randy could feel himself getting close. He reached down and grasped Punks throbbing dick and began to stroke him, using Punk's pre-cum as lube. Randy hit Punk's prostate every time he thrust inside.

"I'm fucking close, Randy!" Punk cried out as he held onto his boyf- fiancé.

Randy took this as a hint to go faster and did so. Soon Punk was coming all over Randy's hand and his own stomach, his ass tightening around Randy's cock and causing Randy to tumble over the edge, pumping Punk's body full of so much come some leaked out and fell to the expensive sheets on the bed. Randy let his body collapse on top of Punk's and kissed the man deeply.

Randy pulled back and looked into the olive green eyes that had him swooning those years ago when he first saw Punk across the room full of wrestlers. And that smile that always had his heart fluttering. "Thank you for saying yes."

Punk smiled up at Randy and kissed him. "The answer was always yes. I've just been waiting for the question."

Pulling out of Punk's body Randy laid down next to him, pulling Punk close. Punk quickly fell asleep, but Randy couldn't, not with the excitement in his body. Looking at the hand resting on his chest Randy saw the ring and smiled.

Punk had accepted him forever.

**A/N- Alright guys, that's the end of this story. I know this one is super long but there was just so much I wanted to put in it to make it worth your while. Review and let me know what you think of it so I know if I should do more Punk/Orton's in the future. I should be starting up another 5 or 6 chapter one in a little bit, it just depends on my schedule. Please let me know what you think of me. **

**Love**

**-BattleBird**


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